Favorite Uncle, Most Trusted Friend
by k4writer02
Summary: My Response to the question 'why wasn't Chakotay chosen as Miral's godfather' C T friendship fic
1. Part One

Title: Santa Claus, Favorite Uncle, Guardian, Most Trusted Friend  
  
Author: Kate, k4writer02@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archiving: Just let me know if you want the story!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I am making no profit from this story.  
  
Summary: My response to the question: Why wasn't Chakotay picked as Miral's godfather? Post Lineage.  
  
"Chakotay!" B'Elanna called, as the red and black back of the commander moved around a corner. "Chakotay, wait. I need to talk to you." She chased him a few feet.  
  
Chakotay stopped. Of course he did. He was a gentle man, a polite man. He would not deliberately hurt his dearest friend, even if she had deliberately hurt him. He turned. "Lt. Torres?" He said, in a chilled tone he had learned years ago and perfected by years of watching Kathryn. Well, he wasn't being kind, but he wasn't being cruel.  
  
"Chakotay, I know that by now you've heard that Tom and I asked the doctor to be our baby's godfather." She hesitated, waiting for acknowledgment. It was moments like this that B'Elanna desperately wished she had some of Tom's gift for words.  
  
His face was like a stonewall.  
  
"And if you didn't know before, I told you. But you have to let me tell you why." The words left her in a rush.  
  
His posture and stance did not change, but she sensed a slight change in the tension between them. Now, he wasn't emitting hostile vibes, just curious and cautious.  
  
"Can we go to the mess hall or the holodeck or my quarters?" She pleaded. "I don't want the whole ship hearing what I have to say."  
  
His shields slammed up so quickly she could feel it.  
  
"Okay, so here is fine." She stumbled over her words. "Chakotay, I asked the doctor because-lots of reasons-I know gossip has plenty to say about that too." She set her shoulders in a more defensive posture. "I did something stupid that almost hurt my baby. I did hurt the doctor. I breached his trust. He's my doctor, I'm his, and we have to trust each other. I had to make it better. So he's going to be Miral's godfather. But what does a godfather really do? Bring presents and show up for holidays and a few scattered religious events-Tom and I don't practice, so the doctor's out confirmation and communion and whatever else. He's first line babysitter-except he'll always be on call and we promised Harry that we'll call him first." B'Elanna took a breath. "Not that a godfather isn't important." She said hastily. "But there's another role that I need to ask you to play in my child's life Chakotay."  
  
"B'Elanna." He sighed. "You don't have to make up-,"  
  
"Let me talk." She growled, and Chakotay's jaw closed. "It's from Klingon culture-I know I know. I'm not a practicing Klingon. But Tom and I aren't practicing Catholics or Orthodox Christians and the kid has a godfather." He jaw jutted. "Now will you come with me so I can find something to eat before I cry or wind up back in sickbay because I fainted?"  
  
In an instant, Chakotay's face changed. "How long did you work this shift?" He demanded.  
  
"Nine hours." She said defensively, though it was closer to ten. "But I took a lunch."  
  
"I know your definition of lunch." He said. "Ten minutes with a ration bar doesn't cut it. You're pregnant, B'Elanna. You have to start taking care of yourself. If you can't do it, I'll assign it to Paris as special duty, and if that's not enough I'll tail you myself."  
  
Relief broke on her face. "Try it, commander. Just try it."  
  
They walked together to the Paris quarters. There was a note on the table in Tom's scrawled handwriting that said he and Harry were shooting pool at Sandrine's, since they hadn't done that in a few years. B'Elanna cleared padds off the table, and punched something into the replicator.  
  
"What is that?" Chakotay regarded the plate she set in front of him warily.  
  
"Relax." She smiled guardedly. "This is an appetizer. The replicator's working on your favorite soup and sandwiches for the main course."  
  
"Not-,"  
  
"No, not that." She said hastily. "I know that you haven't been able to eat mushroom soup since Seska and the others stole a bowl of it. No, this is a kind of gazpacho and BLTs."  
  
Chakotay smirked. "Paris introduce you to that?"  
  
"Max." B'Elanna shook her head. "BLT was his favorite lunch."  
  
Chakotay touched her hand. He didn't say anything, but he realized that he still remembered Kathryn's favorites from New Earth. Maybe it was the same, he thought. Maybe you never forget those things you notice and love about an old not-quite-lover.  
  
The moment passed. "But I do know how you love gazpacho. The sour cream's to the side so you can add it or choose not to."  
  
The sat across from each other at the little round table with the appetizer plate between them. Chakotay allowed the coziness of the moment to surround him. He savored the moment for what it was, storing it for later. They ate the food she called a quesadilla. She tried to convince him that it was okay for her to eat so much cheese, and he tried to pretend he believed her. When they were comfortable again, talking in the rhythms of the old days, with soup bowls half empty, she began to talk again.  
  
"Chakotay, the reason I didn't choose you for my baby's godfather is because I want you to fill a far more important role for her. I want you to be her-," B'Elanna paused. "Damn it, I lost the English word that translates it. I think the closest would be an amalgam of Santa Claus, grandpa, favorite uncle, bodyguard, and most trusted friend."  
  
Chakotay's eyes bored into hers. "I meant it B'Elanna. You don't have to invent a role for me."  
  
"This is no invention." B'Elanna said fiercely. "It's a Klingon tradition. When a child is born, the oldest or the wisest or the strongest or the proudest or the most respected member of the clan is asked to guard and guide the child. In the old days it started because so many young fathers didn't come back from battle and because if you were old, you were strong or smart or brave enough to have lived through your youth, so it was a good shot there was something you could teach a kid. When things got a little less intense, it was a way to mark who was most honored and who was most dear to a family. Fathers asked their best friends or their brothers. But after you ask and accept, it's a lifetime bond."  
  
B'Elanna paused to let that sink in. "In Klingon homes, the guardian selects the school where the warrior will train. He teaches the young one the rules of conduct, and the history of the people and the meaning of honor. After mother and father, a child's third word is usually the guardian's name."  
  
She continued, "All through childhood, the young one sees her guardian as a magic force almost. She listens to his stories and when she's in trouble and needs her behind swatted she cries for him. She saves a seat for him at every table she has, from the time she sits with the adults to the time one of them dies. It is a lifetime bond, and distance is no excuse for not honoring it."  
  
She let that sink in, but stopped his reply. "I'm not done. In our case, you would be her ally. When Tom and I drive her nuts, she'll run to you. Let her. When she's a child, she'll run to your lap first. She'll show you her programs on the holodeck and her pictures. When she's a teenager and she and I are about to rip each other apart she'll come crying to you. You'll comfort her and sort her out and send her home, and then you'll comfort me and sort me out and help us reconcile."  
  
She leaned forward. "The benefits are hard to measure. You'll be an integral part of our family. We'll expect to see you every holiday, and at least one meal a week besides. Even if we get home to earth, you're obligated to call frequently. And if you get married and have children, they become part of my family too. My child will not be of your flesh, but in so many ways she will belong to you too."  
  
B'Elanna took a breath. "So you see, I need you for this job, Chakotay. There's no one else I would invite to be a part of my family. Not this way."  
  
She allowed her intense eyes to meet his. "There's no one else I love enough to ask to guard my child, love her, and be part of her life forever." She said. "Because it is forever. When she has children and grandchildren, she will tell them stories about you. You will be immortalized. But you have to risk it all with us. Once you agree, there is not backing out. It is for life. It seals you to me and to her in a bond that Klingons take as seriously as brotherhood."  
  
She wet her lips. "Do you understand everything I'm asking of you? I know it's too much, but there's no one else I trust the way I trust you."  
  
Chakotay took her hand and gripped it fiercely. "Why didn't you say so from the start?" He asked.  
  
She coughed, and laughed. "Say the words."  
  
"I will be proud to be your child's-what is the word?" He asked.  
  
"Santa Claus, grandfather, favorite uncle, guardian, most trusted friend- all of it and more."  
  
"You never could just ask for something small, could you?" He teased. "I am proud to do this for you." The words were so pale, so inert next to the feeling that filled his chest and throat and made his eyes burn.  
  
She looked at their linked hands, and squeezed. The gesture that wasn't enough met the words that weren't enough and filled the room. They let the silence permeate, and realized that they knew each other better than words could touch, better than minds could logically calculate. And the two actions that weren't enough and the silence that surrounded them added together to cement in understanding the bond that had always been between them. 


	2. Coda

Coda: Title: Santa Claus, Favorite Uncle, Guardian, Most Trusted Friend  
  
Author: Kate, k4writer02@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archiving: Just let me know if you want the story!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I am making no profit from this story.  
  
Summary: A follow up to my response to the question: Why wasn't Chakotay picked as Miral's godfather?  
  
An hour or two after the events of "Santa Claus, Favorite Uncle, Guardian, Most Trusted Friend," B'Elanna and Chakotay continue their discussion.  
  
They looked vacantly at the brown wooden box with the blank screen. He sat on the couch properly, with his feet resting on one of the chairs. She was resting her back on his side, with her knees thrown over the arm of the sofa. Chakotay's arm rested on the back of the couch. He looked at her in moderate disbelief. "You mean to tell me that this is how people in the twentieth century entertained themselves?"  
  
She drowsily explained. "There were pictures that moved on the screen."  
  
"And Paris enjoys this thing?" Chakotay asked.  
  
B'Elanna smiled. "At first. The novelty has worn off some."  
  
Chakotay shook his head. "Then why keep it?"  
  
"It's a nice excuse to sit together and relax at the end of long shifts." B'Elanna bit her tongue. "Not that we need an excuse to spend time together-"  
  
"Hush." Chakotay told her. "You don't have to explain it to me."  
  
B'Elanna sighed, shook off some of the pleasant lassitude. "But I want to."  
  
Chakotay shifted, but offered no further protest.  
  
"So often, we're running, running, running. He's bouncing between the conn and sickbay and the holodeck and staff meetings and emergencies and shuttles while I'm in Engineering or sickbay or a staff meeting or stranded somewhere because of an emergency. It wears you down. It's nice to just sit together, not to make love or neck or even talk. To just be."  
  
Chakotay mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Allelujah."  
  
"What was that?" B'Elanna sat up and tried to scowl.  
  
"Oh, relax." He said. She leaned back again, and he looked at the top of her dark head. "I just meant that I've been trying to tell you for years that you don't always have to move and act. That sometimes it's enough just to be."  
  
"Be what?" She teased drowsily.  
  
"Be B'Elanna."  
  
"You mean a couch potato who can't keep her eyes open after a standard shift?" She mumbled self-deprecatingly.  
  
"If your work load's too much I can talk to the guy who handles the duty roster and get him to ease up on you." Chakotay played with a piece of her hair.  
  
Wounded, B'Elanna did sit up. "Chakotay, if you ever say something like that again--" She left the words hanging, stood abruptly and grabbed the plates and bowl off the table.  
  
"Stop overreacting." Chakotay said. "Your physical needs are changing, B'Elanna. Acknowledge it. Grow with it."  
  
"I don't want to." She said, dropping the dishes in the replicator. "Kahless. I sound like a whiny child. I hate that." She dropped into a chair, bowed her head and supported her face with her hands.  
  
Chakotay stood, crossed the room, and laid a hand on her neck. She touched his hand with her own without raising her head or turning to look at him. "I didn't plan for it to happen this soon." She mumbled. "I love my baby already. I haven't met her, but I love her. And I don't know what to do with her. I'm scared, Chakotay." She looked up. "Tom and I are both screwed up because of our parents. And our own choices too, of course. But Owen's at the root of most of Tom's issues. And you know how much the Klingon thing bugs me."  
  
Chakotay simply listened.  
  
"What if I screw her up? What if the Klingon in me scares her away? What if she hates me? What if Tom starts to hate me?" She whispered.  
  
Chakotay sighed. "You need to talk to him, B'Elanna. I can make you a hundred promises that he won't, that I've seen him looking at you, that you'll be a good mother." Chakotay looked at her, and decided everyone was being far too serious. B'Elanna needed to laugh, and soon. "After all, you haven't killed the Voyager engines and you've held them together with spit and bubblegum for seven years. Not to mention Fides. If you can nurse along a truculent warp core you can handle a two year old. Not to mention your staff."  
  
Torres sniffed. "You can hit a truculent conduit to make it do what you want." She said, bleak humor showing through. "And you can hit engineers too, occasionally."  
  
Chakotay smirked. "No abuse allowed. That's straight from her Klingon guardian. Speaking of abuse, what are you going to name her?"  
  
B'Elanna stared. "Since when is a name abuse?" Chakotay stared back, and she crumpled. "I am NOT going to call her Kathryn, Annika, Delaney, Kes or any version of my own name. She will have a name, not a number. She is not going to go through life with the name Chakotaya or Neela or any other permutation thereof. I will ignore every baby name the doctor sends me. If he can't name himself, he's not going to name my daughter."  
  
Chakotay chuckled. "You didn't rule out having a little Harrietta skipping around the ship."  
  
B'Elanna snickered. "We've been talking about using Kim as a middle name. He's one of our best friends and we thought it would be a good tribute. Plus we have to give the man something other than baby-sitting duty."  
  
Chakotay arched an eyebrow. "There'll be no pacifying the captain. She'll want to know why your little one isn't Jane W. Paris."  
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "I don't really want to name her after anyone, but Tom keeps suggesting naming her after our mothers and Harry. Somehow Mary Miral Kim Paris doesn't sound quite right to me."  
  
"That's for you to work out." Chakotay grinned. "But my replicator rations are on you, when the inevitable pool starts. You hungry?"  
  
"Yes." She admitted. "But I used up all my rations for the week and Tom's probably already gambled his away in Sandrine's. And the smell of Chez Neelix turns my stomach these days. You don't want to see a pregnant nauseated Klingon."  
  
"Point taken." Chakotay admitted. "What do you want?"  
  
"Torres alpha twenty eight." She said.  
  
Chakotay ordered it, wrinkling his nose. "What is this?"  
  
"Fried tomato slices soaked in olive oil and sprinkled with cheese." She said, lifting a piece of tomato and nibbling on it. "This baby loves tomatoes."  
  
Chakotay nodded, amused. "I'll make a note of that next time I talk to the ensign who's managing the hydroponics bay."  
  
"Mention it to my husband and engineering staff too. They deserve to know that when I get cranky a bouquet of tomatoes will placate me in ways nothing else will."  
  
"Why, B'Elanna, it sounds as though you're exploiting your reputation and rank for personal gain."  
  
"If it gets Janeway fresh hot coffee by the gallon, I don't see why it can't get my child and I tomatoes."  
  
"When those plants take over the ship I'm holding you accountable." Chakotay warned, eating a slice of the tomato while she leaned back. "You've changed, you know. Come a long way from the urchin who was ready to beat that Cardassian with a table leg."  
  
"I know. Being that angry all the time was exhausting." She agreed. "I'm learning to be comfortable in my own skin."  
  
"I'm glad." He covered her hand with his. "I'm glad I came over tonight. It's been too long since we just talked to each other, not about ship's business or the latest crisis of the week, but talked about each other and something that matters."  
  
"I love you too." She said. "You are my dearest oldest and best friend. I can't imagine Voyager or my life without you." She blinked back tears. "I just wanted to say that without you I'd probably still be that angry urchin, or I wouldn't be at all. I'd be lost in my own pain or floating somewhere in space. So thank you. You've made the difference in my life Chakotay. Your faith saved me from myself more times than I can count." She sniffed. "I hate hormones."  
  
Chakotay caught her tear on his thumb. "You made the difference in my life too, B'Elanna." He told her.  
  
"No need for invention." She parroted him at himself.  
  
"I mean it, B'Elanna. Your fire inspires me every day. You never gave up in the Maquis, even when there was no rational reason to keep going. You literally held that ship together with duct tape and spit."  
  
"Don't forget swearing and glaring." She gave a watery laugh.  
  
"That too." Chakotay agreed. "You've jumped hurdles that would cripple weaker people, including Klingon genes, being split into two people and a stint on a Borg cube. And when you did get caught up in despair, you allowed me to lead you back. You taught me what it means to fight, my friend. You taught me courage and determination. And now you teach me hope, that even fierce warriors can find love and peace and family. Every day, I learn from you."  
  
They linked hands, needing some form of physical contact. "You taught me hope first." She said. "And patience, and discipline, and self-control. And humor, even if it is twisted."  
  
Chakotay made a face at her. "You only call my humor twisted when you don't agree."  
  
"Okay, so I'm a work in progress." B'Elanna admitted. "I accept that about myself. The point is, I learn from you and your example every day."  
  
They finished the tomatoes in companionable silence. Then, they parted, B'Elanna to bed and Chakotay to the holodeck, to discuss B'Elanna's work shifts and eating habits with her husband. Someone had to take care of her, and Chakotay knew his place. He was her child's Santa Claus, favorite uncle, wise one and guardian. He was B'Elanna's most trusted friend. But he was not her lover or her husband. Unfortunately. 


End file.
